


Going for the Gold

by orphan_account



Category: Larry Stylinson - Fandom
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-18
Updated: 2020-01-18
Packaged: 2021-02-27 12:22:39
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,480
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22297009
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: A Nation's expectations rested on young diver Harrys shoulders. There wasn't room for distractions this olympic games. And then he met a swimmer.
Relationships: Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson
Kudos: 15





	Going for the Gold

**Author's Note:**

> I am not the author, I don't take any credit. I'm posting it here so that it exists and won't get deleted.

“Oh God, this room is the size of my closet. Walls closing in. Can’t. Breath,” Harry’s roommate, and diving partner, Niall complained, throwing himself on one of the beds and gasping for air dramatically.

Harry set his bags on the other bed and looked around the plainly decorated room, it was similar to the one he’d stayed in, while competing in Beijing. This one was different though, slightly more familiar, slightly more homey.

He supposed that was another one of those ‘home field’ advantages. 

With a tired sigh he reached down into his bag and pulled out a giant, homemade card from his sister.

‘Don’t fuck up’ It read, and Harry smiled fondly at it as he tacked it up next to his bed.

He couldn’t fuck this up.

He was older than he had been when he was that tiny little 14 year old, making his debut at Beijing.

There were expectations now. Covers of magazine, throwing him forward as the face of the London 2012 Olympics.

‘A Nation’s Hope’ headlines read.

And so he couldn’t fuck this up. But then he met a swimmer.

OoOoO

“I don’t know how I feel about this outfit. Do you think it makes me look pale?” Niall asked, tugging at his jumpsuit jacket and Harry rolled his eyes, zipping his own jacket up as he sat amongst other UK Olympians, in the Gymnastics center, waiting for their turn to be presented at the opening ceremony.

“Niall why would you ask me that?”

“You’re gay. You’re supposed to know these things!” Niall exclaimed in frustration and Harry rolled his eyes.

“If you weren’t my diving partner, I’d hate you. You know that, right?”

“But I am.”

“So I love you instead. Yeah, I know,” Harry, groaned. He flopped down on his back and shut his eyes, trying to push down the growing headache.

“You’re really sleeping through this excitement?” A voice Harry didn’t recognize asked, and Harry opened open his eyes, blinking away the bright industrial lights, as his eyes focused on a goofy smile above him.

A boy with a bright white grin and tussled hair looked down at him, and Harry sat up slightly, staring up at the boy he vaguely recognized from a magazine article, about the UK’s swim team.

“The tension is giving me a headache. I’m tried of trying to be friend to countries I’m trying to beat,” Harry snapped back and the boy pulled a face, rolling his eyes.

“Oh-ho-ho, Mister big shot over here,” He muttered sarcastically, shaking his head, “Don’t you know the point of these Olympics are to unite the world.”

“A bunch of people playing sports isn’t going to solve the shit state our world is in.”

“You’re not very pleasant.”

“I don’t feel very good.”

“You want a Tylenol.”

“I’ve had six.”

“Bad back?”

“Pulled my shoulder in training last week.”

“I broke my toe once.”

“Don’t you swim? Isn’t that shit for your performance?”

“Well I was six, so I think I’ve recovered.”

Harry blinked at the boy, who grinned cheekily back.

“Well, nice meeting you Harry.”

“Wait. I never introduced myself,” Harry said slowly and Louis smirked.

“Right, but you’re Harry Styles,” the boy said, shaking his head, “See you later Styles!”

“Wait!” Harry called after him, and the boy turned, “What’s your name?”

“Louis,” he replied, “Louis Tomlinson.”

Harry sat up straight, staring after the boy who bounced over to a group of his own mates. Once Louis was seated with his teammates, he glanced back at Harry, who blushed when he realized Louis had caught him staring.

The swimmer smirked and winked, and Harry reddened even more, turning back to Niall who was observing the whole situation.

“He’s gay too. I read that in a magzine-“

“Niall!”

OoOoO

“I’m eating twelve big macs when we’re done competing,” Niall commented, as he cut into the plain boiled chicken that was on his plate, staring at the McDonalds that mocked him in the distance.

“You’d throw up if you ate twelve big macs,” Liam, an American diver who’d Niall coerced into friendship, the first day, stated and Niall shrugged.

“Then I’d just eat twelve more to replace those.”

“Niall, that is repulsive. I can’t believe…”

Liam’s voice droned on as Harry looked around the cafeteria, picking at his chicken as his eyes darted from table to table searching for the tussled hair and bright grin.

He hadn’t seen the swimmer since the opening ceremony, three days ago. Not in Team GB’s common room, not in the cafeteria, not roaming the Olympic Village.

That wasn’t all that surprising, considering they were both busy competing in the fucking Olympics, but it was still slightly frustrating.

Harry had kept silent tabs on him though; he’d placed second in the 400IM only behind an American with a grill, which was pretty impressive. The second place part, not the grill.

He finally spotted him, sitting at table in the corner with a few other members of the swim team. Harry wordlessly stood up from the table, ignoring Liam and Niall’s inquiring looks as he marched over to where Louis was sitting, laughing with a dark haired boy.

“Ah! Harry!” Louis greeted, with a bright grin, still laughing, “Haven’t seen you around! Where have you been?”

Any confidence that Harry had was gone by then and he swallowed shrugging.

“You’re Harry,” the dark haired boy stated and Harry nodded, glancing at him shyly, “I’m Zayn.”

Harry shook his hand and nodded, shifting uncomfortably on his feet.

“I, uh,” Harry said slowly, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly, “I just came over here to see, if you…if you had any Tylenol?”

Louis stared at him, eyes crinkled and grin bright, “Of course I do. What kind of athlete would I be if I didn’t? Is it your shoulder?”

“My neck.”

“Your first dive is tomorrow. You might want to fix that,” Louis said and Harry’s stomach twisted, and heart pounded, as Louis’ hand graced his as he deposited a couple round tablets in it, “Rest up yeah?”

Harry nodded slowly, accepting the water bottle Louis handed him, and taking a swig of it, to wash down the tablets.

“You nervous?” Zayn asked and Harry shook his head, clearing his throat.

“Why would I be nervous?” He asked, “The entire Nation expects me to win.”

“Ah,” Louis said, still staring up at Harry, eyes twinkling, “But that doesn’t mean anything unless you expect you to win.”

Harry blinked and Louis smiled gently, reaching out and giving Harry’s arm a friendly squeeze, which sent goose bumps running up his spine like an electric shock.

He’d never thought about it that way.

He was always trying to win a metal for the Nation. Maybe he could try winning it for himself.

OoOoO

“Hey, look, it’s your boyfriend!” Niall exclaimed, as he climbed the ladder up to the platform with Harry by his side and Harry glanced in the direction Niall nodded, heart pounding even faster as he realized he was about to take the final dive, the last of he and Niall’s together at the Olympics, under the observation of Louis.

“Why are you telling me this now?” Harry hissed, hands shaking and stomach twisting.

“I noticed the first dive, but I thought I’d wait-“

“To tell me right before we make the dive that will decide our Olympic careers?” Harry snapped and Niall hesitated before shrugging.

“I thought it’d help.”

“It didn’t.”

“Clearly.”

Harry sighed, taking a deep breath and lining up with Niall, his back facing the deep pool, and audience of spectators where Louis was watching, eyes glued to him.

“You’re a prick,” Harry whispered.

“I know.”

“We’ve had a good run.”

“I know.”

“Love you.”

“No homo.”

“You’re a prick.”

“I know.”

“One. Two. Three. Four. Five,” Harry counted off, and he flung himself into the air, body working the moves engraved into his mind, as he twirled through the air, weightless as he plummeted towards the water, his body stiffening into a vertical as he slipped into the pool, with only small splash following.

Under the water he was consumed my bubbles and he opened his eyes briefly, still oblivious to the future scores that would decide his fate at the London 2012 Olympics.

He didn’t kick his way to the top of the water like Niall did, but he floated there, lungs beginning to hurt from lack of oxygen.

When he emerged he’d either have delighted a Nation or disappointed a Nation. But more importantly. When he emerged he’d either have impressed Louis or looked like a loser.

Eventually he floated to the top, and he must’ve been under for a while, because his coach was at the edge, dragging him out and wrapping a towel around his shoulders, yelling at him, asking if he was okay, and sitting him down in a chair to catch his breath.

“What were you doing? Trying to drown yourself?” Niall asked, “In front of the world? Just thought you’d kill yourself?”

“Didn’t want to see the results,” Harry panted and Niall turned to face the board as the numbers were called, face breaking out into a bright grin.

“You sure?”

Harry turned to the screen, covering his mouth with his hand, his eyes beginning to water as he read the scores.

9.0 9.5 9.0. 9.5 9.5

A mess of numbers that all equaled one thing.

Gold.

His world collapsed into a mess of loud commotion, as Niall flung himself at him, yelling ‘I love you! No hommo!’ in his ear, and his coach was hugging him, and suddenly 12 years of training all seemed like nothing, compared to this moment.

“Nice job Harry,” a familiar voice whispered from behind him, and Harry turned in his seat to see Louis, leaning over the rail, grin even brighter than usual, “I have to go try to win some gold of my own now. But I thought I’d say congratulations.”

He clasped Harry on the shoulder and then hurried out of the arena, Harry’s eyes trailing after him.

“He has to swim in less than half an hour,” his coach noted, watching Harry, watching Louis’ retreating back, “You must be really close. For him to cut his time that short, just to watch you dive.”

Harry nodded wordlessly. Thinking back to the two conversations he’d ever had with Louis.

Close wasn’t exactly the right word.

But maybe it was.

OoOoO

“Hey, Harry, some weird man is in our room asking for you. He sounds all funny and he’s offering me candy,” Niall said over the phone to Harry, who was leaving a press interview.

Harry paled.

“Niall, get the fuck out of there-“

“Chill, mate, it’s just me,” A familiar voice yelled through the phone, and Harry’s heart stopped racing, as he took a deep breath.

“Niall. You’re a dickhead.”

“Love you too, only-“

“Yeah, okay, bye,” Harry interrupted, snapping his phone shut, and picking up his pace as he hurried up to the room.

Niall was gone when Harry got there, and the only person there was Louis, who was sitting on his bed, flipping through the photo album Harry’s mum had packed him.

“Look at that precious little baby fat,” Louis cooed, glancing up at Harry, “Now you’re all toned. Ew.”

“You can’t even talk about me being toned,” Harry snapped and Louis grinned, raising a brow.

“Been admiring my body, have you?” he taunted and Harry shifted uncomfortably on his feet, face reddening, “Aw! You’re blushing, that’s so cute.”

“M’not blushing,” Harry mumbled and Louis stood, raising a brow, “I’m not!” he insisted and Louis laughed.

“Whatever you say kid,” he said and Harry sighed, marching over to sit next to Louis on the bed.

“What are you doing here?”

“It’s the night before the closing ceremonies,” Louis explained, as if it was supposed to be obvious. Harry stared back blankly and blinked. “You blink a lot.”

“No I don’t.”

“Okay. But you do.”

“Louis.”

“Harry.”

“Why are you here.”

“Oh, come on Styles! This isn’t your first Olympics. What do people always do the night before closing ceremonies?”

Harry hesitated, “Celebrate?”

Louis nodded, “By?”

“Uh…I don’t know. I was 14 last time. I celebrated with a milkshake and then I went to sleep.”

“Oh, Christ, you’re a weird child-“

“Not anymore-“

“You tried to drown yourself in an Olympic pool-“

“Would you stop bringing that up! That wasn’t what I was doing!”

Louis laughed, eyes twinkling, “Whatever you say. Anyways, it’s common knowledge, that on the last night in the Olympic Village, each athlete is supposed to fuck the brains out of someone new they met.”

Harry blinked.

“See! You do blink a lot!”

Harry swallowed thickly, stomach twisting tighter than it had before Harry’s final dive. This nervousness, this stress was supposed to be over, and now, on the last night, it was back.

“You’re, uh, you’re making that up.”

“Louis smirked, “No I’m not. Where do you think Niall toddled off? He and that American gymnast who’s half his size-“

“Ew-“

“That’s what I said!” Louis agreed, laughing, “But anyways. I mean. I couldn’t be the only one in the village not participating in this esteemed tradition.”

“How did you know I wasn’t already?” Harry asked and Louis rolled his eyes.

“Styles, you didn’t even know the tradition existed until I told you,” he replied, eyes twinkling, “But anyways. I thought maybe, we could give each other a proper send off.”

Harry hesitated.

“How’d you know I’d want to?” he asked slowly and Louis smiled carefully.

“Because you’re not as good as hiding your feelings as you think.”

“How’d you know that?”

“Because you were so nervous to see your scores, and face up to any emotions, that you preferred to drown under water.”

“You’re never going to drop that?”

“Not at all.”

“The Daily Mail has already forgotten about it.”

“I have a bigger brain than most gossip websites.”

“Gossip websites don’t have brains.”

“Your sense of sarcasm needs help.”

“I’ve never gotten any complaints.”

“You’re getting one now. Focus Harry.”

Harry blinked, swallowing his nerves as his eyes traced over Louis, perfect Louis, with the tan skin, and toned arms, and bright grin that almost burned with kindness.

He took a deep breath.

One.

He thought to himself, staring at Louis, as he carefully began to peel off his shirt.

Two.

He felt his fingers trembled as they worked on Louis’ jeans.

Three.

He clung to Louis’ muscular arms, as Louis maneuvered himself on top of Harry.

Four.

His stomach slowly untwisting from nerves, and heart begin to pound with lust and adrenaline and everything he’d been holding in, these past two weeks, as he’d pushed aside these feelings to focus on the competition.

And now with the competition over…

Five.

He dived in.


End file.
